Quotes
Він вирішив почати з Ботанічного саду, де вже провів так багато досліджень, і вибрав маленький штучний ставок, тепер усипаний осіннім дощем з червоних і жовтих листя, тому що, хоча садівникам дуже хотілося змести їх, вони не могли дотягнутися до них своїми мітлами. Решта сади вони підмітали досить чисто, прибираючи щоранку природний дощ з листя; складаючи їх в купи, звідки від повільних багать піднімався солодкий, їдкий дим, який, подібно весняному співу зозулі, літньому аромату лип, є істинною емблемою осені.. Акуратні душі садівників не могли винести золотого, зеленого і червонувато-коричневого візерунка на траві. Гравійні доріжки повинні лежати незаплямованими, впорядкованими, методичними, без знання реалій життя, ні того повільного і прекрасного в'янення, яке жбурляє корони під ноги, щоб всипати землю впала славою, звідки, коли цикл покотиться, знову вискочить дика весна.
He decided to commence with the Botanical Gardens, where he had already made so many studies, and chose the little artificial pond, sprinkled now with an autumn shower of red and yellow leaves, for though the gardeners longed to sweep them off, they could not reach them with their brooms. The rest of the gardens they swept bare enough, removing every morning Nature’s rain of leaves; piling them in heaps, whence from slow fires rose the sweet, acrid smoke that, like the cuckoo’s note for spring, the scent of lime trees for the summer, is the true emblem of the fall. The gardeners’ tidy souls could not abide the gold and green and russet pattern on the grass. The gravel paths must lie unstained, ordered, methodical, without knowledge of the realities of life, nor of that slow and beautiful decay which flings crowns underfoot to star the earth with fallen glories, whence, as the cycle rolls, will leap again wild spring.
Thus each leaf that fell was marked from the moment when it fluttered a good-bye and dropped, slow turning, from its twig.
But on that little pond the leaves floated in peace, and praised Heaven with their hues, the sunlight haunting over them.
And so young Jolyon found them.
Coming there one morning in the middle of October, he was disconcerted to find a bench about twenty paces from his stand occupied, for he had a proper horror of anyone seeing him at work.
A lady in a velvet jacket was sitting there, with her eyes fixed on the ground. A flowering laurel, however, stood between, and, taking shelter behind this, young Jolyon prepared his easel.
His preparations were leisurely; he caught, as every true artist should, at anything that might delay for a moment the effort of his work, and he found himself looking furtively at this unknown dame.
Like his father before him, he had an eye for a face. This face was charming!
